I have never realized the hardship of being a mother until I become a mother myself. Within one month, I quickly grew up to take the responsibility of motherhood. It was the most physical demanding period in my life. However, when I recall this period of time, a sense of achievement and success filled in my heart.
I feel proud of myself!
Imaging that in the very beginning, I didn’t even dare to tough the baby. I was afraid I would drop her. I didn’t dare to hold her, not to mention burping or rocking her to sleep. When she cried, I didn’t know what to do but called grandma for help.
Whenever the feeding time came, M brought the baby to me and helped position the baby for a good latching. After I finished nursing, M took the baby, burped her and gently talked to her to sleep. At that time, I felt I was just a milky cow!
But I could not keep doing this way, since M only had two-week vocation time to stay with me and the new baby.
I had to quickly learn to be a mother and take my responsibilities. I did make it within one month, although it was not easy.
I remember the hesitance of picking the baby up and holding her the first time, although it only lasted for five minutes.
I remember thinking all kinds of ways to make myself fell confident and comfortable about nursing: adding pillows, sitting on a rocking chair, getting a nursing pillow, borrowing a pillow chair, and etc. Finally I found the most comfortable way to nurse the baby.
I remember the discomfort and pain of breastfeeding. The first few sucks of each nursing were so painful that I had to bit my lips tightly and took a deep breath. The sensation of milk coming down of my breasts was both interesting and different. Sometimes my breasts were so full that I couldn’t even touch them.
I remember the craziness to take care of the baby when M went back to work. DD was so fussy during those days that I didn’t have time to finish the lunch. Several times she cried when I just began to have my lunch. I rushed to her room to calm her down. When she finally dose away, it was already close to the dinner time.
I remember those long and sleepless nights when DD’s fussiness went to peak. M and I took turns to hold her and tried everything we could to calm her down. It was quite common for us to go to bed at 3 AM or 4 AM in the morning.
I remember the struggle to jump out of the bed to feed DD at midnight. Literally, I had to jump out of the bed, otherwise I would still lingered on the bed, trying to get few more minutes of sleep. I also remember myself fighting to keep my eyes open when DD was still widely awake and looked around curiously with her beautiful big eyes at 3 AM.
I remember… a lot of details. No matter those memories are sweet or painful, they are unique and worth cherishing.
I have entered a brand new stage of my life: being a mother.
There are 101 reasons for breastfeeding the baby. But nobody told me one fact: breastfeeding is a pain, real physical pain.
The first time to breastfeed my baby was life-time memory. When I saw the cute tiny one sucking my nipple and held her with my arms at the same time, that combined feeling of happiness, excitement, nervousness and surprise was beyond expression.
Soon this mixed feeling was replaced by discomfort, and then by pain and even a little bit fear.
For a couple of weeks, breastfeeding became a torture for me. The first few sucks of each nursing were so painful that I had to bit my lips tightly and took a deep breath. Although it only lasted for few seconds, the pain was sharp. Sometimes I could even feel the withdrawal of milk taken by DD’s rhythmic sucking. The nipples were bleeding too.
At the same time, I expressed milk after most feedings in order to stimulate more milk production. The push of nipples against the plastic pumping cups also made me feel uncomfortable.
When they were engorged, the two breasts became so sensitive to withstand even a gentle touch.
Towards breastfeeding, I changed from being eager to nurse to a little bit hesitances, reluctance, even to a little bit resentment. At one time, I asked myself: Am I really be able to nurse my baby for a whole year?
But I knew breastfeeding was the best for my baby. Since it is part of the motherhood responsibilities, I didn’t give it up.
“It will be better.” M said, “Your breast tissue will become tough and soon you will not feel so painful. Then you will enjoy nursing the baby again.”
That is my hope too. But no matter what, I will still fulfill my one-year commitment for my baby and keep on breastfeeding.
Before DD arrived, baby caring was a rosy cozy picture to me: She lies comfortably on my shoulder with a beautiful satisfying smile on her face. I pat her and ouch her gently, singing and talk to her softly. Light melody of music is surrounding us…
When I face the real world, I find baby-caring actually is…quite difficult. It is tough, tiring and tedious. I am overwhelmed.
I need to feed DD 8 to 12 times around the clock. Besides, I need to change her diaper whenever she was wet or dirty, burp her every time after nursing, and rock her to sleep or just hold her to calm her down. This means I have to be up at least 18 hours daily.
I need to eat nutritious and balanced meals to keep my milk supply.
I need to drink plenty of fluids, otherwise my milk production would slow down and I would develop constipation.
I need to pump after most feedings to stimulate more milk production.
I need to go bathroom at least several times a day to maintain my system running properly.
I need to clean myself and changed pads 4 to 5 times every day, since my uterus still bled.
I need to clean my breasts frequently and put lotion onto nipples to prevent them from getting cracked and infected.
I need to brush and floss my teeth regularly, otherwise they would bring me trouble again.
The last but not the least, I need to sleep, otherwise I would… break down.
There are so many things I need to do, but there is only 24 hours a day. For the first time in my life I felt time was so precious and limited that every minute needed to be well managed.
I am overwhelmed by the busy, busy, and busy baby-caring.
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